


This is Not a Fairytale

by poppetawoppet



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, boys are stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppetawoppet/pseuds/poppetawoppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for <span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-type-P"></span><a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://jerakeen.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://jerakeen.livejournal.com/"></a><b>jerakeen</b> 's prompt "fairytale kiss". Um Kris is under a curse, Adam is all alone, and Allison is their fairy godmother?</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Not a Fairytale

Adam didn't know what possessed him to keep directing Kris to the apartment. Kris was fighting the whole way, his arms crossed, and a look in his eyes that could only be described as pure misery. Adam put it down to the amount of alcohol currently in Kris's system and struggled to open the door.

"I'm trying to _help_ here," Adam tried to reassure Kris, who just shook his head. "You can't tell a cab to get you wherever you came from, and I have a spare room. Call it my one good deed for the month."

Adam wouldn't have brought a strange guy home—well maybe he would have in the past—except Allison had told him to go out tonight, and then he had met Kris, and Adam took it as a matter of course. Allison was never wrong about these things.

Adam couldn't really a remember a time when Allison had steered him wrong, so when she told him he needed to go out and party a little, he did. Of course, having a fairy godmother wasn't like they said it was in the books. First of all, she wasn't magic. Yet. Second of all, she was a little too enthusiastic sometimes. Third of all—she was younger than Adam.

Of course she was in training, so that did explain some things. But Adam wasn't a Prince, nor was he looking for one, but like Allison had told him early on, everyone needed a fairy godmother from time to time.

He loved to call her his fairy god sister just to annoy her, but she had adopted it, ruining any chance of him riling her up. Although riling up someone who was supposed to help you achieve your dreams was probably not a good idea.

But Allison was good to him, so even though he was depressed about his latest job rejection (not unique _enough_ this time) he pulled on a pair of jeans, his favorite boots, a dark gray shirt that shimmered just so, and he was out. (Of course Allison convinced him to go almost make-up less, though he couldn't dream of why. He had drawn the line at eyeliner—just a touch of that and a quick brush of eye shadow.)

*  
It had been an uneventful night until Peyton walked in with someone new. Adam couldn't help but notice, tight blue jeans worn thin in all the right places, dark brown vest that showed off a pair of well-defined arms, and a collar. Peyton walked the new guy to the bar and promptly went to dance. Adam had no idea what was going on, but something told him to go over.

The collar had a name, Kristopher, etched into it, and up close, the man was angles and muscles and hit every bullet on Adam's list of wants. It was too good to be true.

"So you don't mind that your boyfriend is currently hitting on someone else."

The man, Adam presumed his name was Kristopher, turned and shrugged, looking out into the crowd with an air of resignation.

"Don't talk much?"

Kristopher shook his head and put a hand over his mouth.

"Can't talk?"

Kris—Adam definitely thought he was a Kris—nodded.

"Well, that's okay, Kris—I can call you Kris, right?—I'll talk plenty for us both. I didn't really want to come out, but Allison made me."

Kris brightened at Allison's name.

"You know Allison? That explains everything. She probably wants me to save you from Peyton. He is kind of an asshole."

Kris rolled his eyes, and Adam laughed.

"Why are you with him if you don't like him?"

Kris didn't have an answer, at least none Adam could interpret, so instead he started commentating the dancing, Kris nodding and laughing and drinking.

It was nice, actually just being friendly with someone for once. Adam felt sorry for Kris, because he seemed like a nice guy, and way too good for Peyton. It was only emphasized when Peyton came over, arm draped over two other men.

"Lambert! Good to see you! I see you've met my friend Kristopher. He was bored, so I thought I'd bring him here tonight. Have fun Krissyferrrr! Don't bite anyone!"

Peyton laughed and walked off. Kris went rigid, and Adam held him back, amazed at the tension radiating from the small man.

"So I guess he's not your boyfriend, then?"

Kris shook his head.

"Then I don't get it. Why are you staying with him? Did he—" Adam lowered his voice, "Did he kidnap you? Blackmail you?"

Kris shook his head again, hands balling into fists.

"Can you write it down?"

Kris shook his head again, and suddenly Adam got it.

"So, let's say I guess something, and I'm right. You can confirm it?"

Kris nodded.

"So let me go out on a limb and say you are under some sort of curse, and you can't talk about your situation can you?"

Kris nodded and sat down on one of the stools, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

"Whoa there. I know Peyton's kind of a dick, but he's not worth a good drunk."

Kris gave Adam a long look and turned back to the bar.

"Or maybe you should dance it out. Come on. I promise I won't bite if you won't."

Kris had looked Adam up and down, and Adam shivered as Kris's eyes darkened. And they had gone to the dance floor.

*

Adam sighed as he locked his door. Kris stood in the middle of the room, anger visible on his face.

"Look, I don't know what the problem is, but this is only for a little bit."  
Kris sat down, his whole body convulsing in laughter.

"What? Did I say something? Shit. There's a time limit on how long you can stay with someone isn't there?"

Kris nodded.

"A month?" _No_ "A day?" _No_ "A week?"

Kris nodded again.

"That's not very long."

Kris made a weighing motion with his hands.

"Yeah, I guess it does depend on who it's with. Well, why don't I show you the guest room? And we can talk in the morning?"

Something in the way Kris looked at him made Adam's heart break a little. But Kris mouthed a thank you when Adam handed him an old t-shirt to sleep in and promptly lay on the bed.

Adam sat on his couch, mind reeling with possibilities. He could ask Allison, but she probably wasn't allowed to tell. First thing, though, he was going to attempt to talk to Peyton, and try to trace Kris's journey backwards.

*

DAY ONE

It was ten in the morning and Kris was still asleep. Adam couldn't quite believe anyone could sleep longer than him, but it looked like he'd finally met his match. Then he heard a weird whining coming from the guest room and he rushed to the door.

Kris was gone. Adam blinked, wondering what had happened, because his door was locked, and then there was the whine, and Adam looked down and—

"Holy shit."

Looking up at him, with very familiar brown eyes and matching collar, was a Golden Retriever.

"Kris?"

The dog nodded and gave a small bark.

"Holy shit."

The dog sat and let out a sigh.

"You probably need to go to the bathroom or some shit don't you?"

The dog shook its head.

"Oh. Um. Do you have stuff at Peyton's?"

The dog nodded.

"Well, then, luckily I have a leash lying around—don't even ask why, okay?—and we can go."  
Kris curled quietly in the passenger seat of Adam's car, eyes never leaving Adam.

"Do you always watch people like that when you are a dog? Because it's kind of disturbing."

Kris put his head between his paws and sighed.

Peyton's house was dark still, but Adam banged on the door anyway. Peyton answered half dressed and smirked at the leash in Adam's hand.

"That is too cute. Did you buy yourself a puppy?" Peyton said in a sing-song voice.

"Peyton. I just want his stuff."

"Fine."

Peyton disappeared, coming back about ten minutes later with a duffle bag and a guitar case.

"You know, seven to midnight are magical hours. Boy is definitely an animal if you know what I mean. I love it when they can't talk back."

Kris growled then, and it was all Adam could do not to knock Peyton flat on his back. But he breathed, and said.

"I'm sure you do. If they talked then your small sized dick might be better known."  
Adam took great satisfaction that Peyton's face was a dark shade of purple as he walked away.

*

Around seven thirty Kris shuffled out of the guest room in a plaid shirt and another pair of worn jeans. He looked mildly embarrassed, but mimed eating to Adam.

"Yeah, I bet you are hungry," Adam said. "I figure you don't eat or anything else while you are a dog do you?"

Kris shook his head, staring gratefully at the big bowl of pasta and chicken Adam had set in front of him.

"I wouldn't either. Sorry Peyton was an ass. He's like that to all of his fuck buddies."  
Adam winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth and Kris blinked at him, shaking his head violently.

"Oh. You didn't?"

Kris shook his head again.

"Well that had to burn him up. He never brings a boy home without sleeping with him."

Kris made no gesture, digging into his pasta. His cheeks were faintly pink.

"You almost did didn't you?"

Kris looked at Adam and sighed. Then he stood and made a kissing face, then dropped to all fours and mimed barking. He sat back in the stool and waited.

"Oh. My. Ra. You changed didn't you? Right in front of him?"

Kris nodded. Adam let a giggle pass his lips, and then Kris was smiling too.

"That is what I call karmic justice. Well don't worry about me. My intentions are mostly honorable."

Kris tilted his head.

"Well you are really kind of hot."

Kris ducked his head, his cheeks flushing.

"Annnd I've embarrassed you. How about you forget I said that, and we watch stupid karate movies and gorge on popcorn instead?"

Kris nodded and smiled. Adam pretended that the smile didn't affect him, and went to the microwave.

It was going to be a long week.

*

DAY THREE

"Why won't you play the guitar for me?"

Adam crossed his arms and frowned at Kris. He wasn't any closer to figuring out why Kris was cursed, or how to break the curse, but he did know one thing: Kris had fit seamlessly into his life. And it scared Adam, because he only had four more days, and he wanted to hear Kris's voice, wanted to know everything about him.

Except he already kind of did.

Kris liked video games, delighted in beating Adam at them, even taunting him with stupid faces and gestures that belonged only in a college frat house, but seemed totally appropriate for Wii Tennis. He loved to cook, somehow taking over Adam's kitchen and completely reorganizing it and then making things that were practically orgasmic, a smirk on his face that told Adam that Kris knew exactly what the food was doing to Adam. He loved music. Kris's whole body changed when Adam put on a CD, or sang in the hallway.

When Adam had sung the day before, Kris had gaped a little, and then motioned for Adam to sing some more. Adam had blushed then, waving away Kris and putting on a CD of real singers.

Kris looked at the guitar and sighed. He mimed singing.

"You want to sing along don't you?"

Kris nodded. It was strange. Even though Kris's communication was limited to a weird made up sign language, Adam understood every little nuance and gesture.

"What if I sang?"

Kris perked up and went over to the guitar, fiddling with the tuning, his tongue stuck between his teeth. Adam restrained himself from going over and doing something with that tongue. He didn't know what held him back, because he was always the first to make a move, except that it felt wrong and weird and he liked the easy friendship he and Kris had fell into. Making a move almost felt like taking advantage.

Kris strummed a few chords and looked at Adam.

"Do you know 'Crazy'?"

Kris nodded, and grinned, playing a slow chord progression, and Adam looked at him for a minute until Kris played the melody.

"Not the Patsy Cline version, asshole."

Kris laughed silently, fingers moving again. Adam forced himself to look away from Kris's hands, to stop imagining them playing other things, and began to sing.

They went through the Beatles catalog, then Michael Jackson, and Adam laughing through Britney Spears, Kris's face completely serious the whole time.

"I bet you have so many tricks up your sleeve," Adam murmured. "You are amazing. I just wonder what happened to you."

Kris said nothing, and then looked at the clock in alarm.

"Yeah. I know. It's time."

Adam watched as Kris shuffled to the room, biting his lip as Kris waved at him before shutting the door. Kris wouldn't let him watch the transition. Adam understood completely.

*

DAY SIX

Kris kept looking at Adam as if expecting him to react differently each time he came out at seven on the dot. But Adam would simply hand him some food, or let him take over the kitchen and Kris would relax. Adam hated it, because it was as if Kris were constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Adam couldn't think of ever thinking of Kris differently.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, because you think I'll hate you.. But I'm just curious as to how you got here."

Kris sighed. He sat next to Adam on the couch for a minute then stood up. He put a hand over his left ring finger.

"You were married."

Kris nodded, and then mimed a smile, slowly melting into a frown.

"Things weren't going good."

Then Kris pointed at Adam then himself, then mimed kissing.

"You kissed a guy. Holy shit you cheated."

Kris shook his head, then made a balancing gesture with his hands.

"Not physically, just emotionally?"

Kris nodded, and then put his hand around his finger again, and then mimed throwing something against the wall. He waved goodbye. And then sat on the couch.

"She left you and you let her. I still don't understand why you would be cursed then. Unless she was the one that cursed you."

Kris nodded slowly.

"Oh. But I mean, you seem really nice. I don't think you deserved it."

Kris shook his head.

"You think you did? I mean have you really learned something?"

Kris nodded emphatically.

"Oh. But she didn't tell you how to break it did she?"

_No._

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, the one true love of my life left me because it wasn't meant to be and I've been kind of alone ever since. So I feel you. I wish you could stay here and we could figure this out, but it's not looking good. I'm sorry. I don't make a good curse breaker I guess. Among many other things."

Adam looked down at his hands. He hated this side of himself, hated that he didn't feel good enough, even though he knew he was. But sometimes the feeling just overwhelmed him. Then he felt a hand on his face.

Kris lifted his face until their eyes were even. Adam didn't say anything, trying to keep his breathing even. The Kris's hand traced the contours of his face, calluses brushing over every pore. Adam shivered as Kris's hand lingered on the trio of freckles just above his lip.

"Kris, I—"

Kris pressed a finger against Adam's lip and shook his head. Adam was frozen as Kris leaned forward, replacing his finger with his lips, soft and warm and gentle. Adam still didn't move, afraid it wasn't real, afraid it would end. Kris moved back, their faces inches apart.

"Guess that means you think I'm perfectly fine the way I am."

Kris's mouth quirked and he leaned forward again, and Adam was sure it was intended as another quick peck on the mouth, but then Kris's mouth opened a little, and the next thing he knew, Kris was in his lap, grinding against him, fist curled in his shirt, and Adam was pulling him closer, hands seeking for purchase against his back, moaning every time Kris's mouth left his even for a moment.

Then Adam regained his senses, just for a minute, and pushed Kris away.

"Kris. We can't. I can't. This—I—"

Kris's face struggled for an emotion, but then it hardened into stone. He looked up at the clock and stood. Then he sighed, and shook his head, balling his fist as if to go on some silent rant, then stalked off to the guest room and slammed the door.

"Well. That went well," Adam said to himself and put his head in his hands.

*

DAY SEVEN

Kris watched as Adam applied eyeliner, his face a complete mask.

"You kept throwing club clothes at me all week long, trying to tell me I needed to go out. Well I'm going out. It's fairly obvious I'm not the cure to whatever happened to you, so I might as well get out."

Kris's face showed nothing but disappointment and regret. It was exactly what Adam was hoping for. It wasn't that Adam wanted it to go this way, but it was better this way. He was terrible at relationships, and it would be wrong to lead Kris along. Anyway, he had tried to apologize when Kris had come out at seven, but Kris wasn't hearing any of it.

Maybe saying kissing Kris had been a mistake was the wrong way to approach it, but Adam hadn't meant for it to happen. He hadn't made a move all week, trying to respect Kris's space and had ruined it all in the heat of the moment. Now they weren't even friends.

"I'll see you when I get back. It's only for a couple of hours."

Kris shook his head, and Adam knew it meant "No, I won't" and he hated that this was goodbye, but he didn't know any other way to let go except to cut himself completely off, because he didn't want Kris to leave, and he couldn't stand the thought of being there when Kris left.

So he went where the noise drowned out his thoughts. It was around nine when the Britney Spears remix came blaring over the speakers, and it was all Adam could do not to run out of the club and go home right then, because it reminded him so achingly of Kris. But Adam was determined to be right, determined to let goodbye be clean and painless, even though it wasn't.

Then there was a guy, short and dark and wild, and Adam danced with him, let the guy push him against the wall, kissing him senseless. Adam closed his eyes, and all he could see was a pair of deep brown eyes staring at him.

"Fuck."

"I like the way you think," the guy said, hands reaching for the zipper on Adam's pants.

"Not you, moron. No offense, but I have to go."

Adam pushed his way through the club, and tried not to speed too much as he made his way home. The clock on his wall said 11:50, so he had a few minutes.

He burst into Kris's room. And stopped in the doorway. Kris was asleep on the bed, a piece of paper on the side table.

Adam picked it up carefully, and there were no words, only a picture of Adam's apartment (terribly drawn, but Adam recognized his couch and the guitar next to it) and a heart. Adam had no idea what it meant, except that maybe Kris didn't want to leave either.

"I'm a moron," Adam whispered. "This whole time I've been trying to stay away from you, trying to be honorable or something, and I should have been doing the opposite. I don't know what made me push you away, because even though I know next to nothing about you, I think your funny and talented and hot and I'm terribly in love with you despite your penchant for plaid and your terrible habit of cleaning up after everything and I'm not sure how that happened, except it I did, and the fact that I have no way of making you stay is killing me. That's not an excuse for me abandoning you, it's just a reason, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wish you could wake up, but I don't, because they would be the most awesome terrible five minutes of my life."

Adam looked at Kris, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks and almost wept then. Instead he leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips.

Kris's eyes fluttered and widened. Adam froze.

"Shit. Shit. You weren't supposed to wake up."

"Adam."

It was low and rusty and warm and fucking perfect.

"Adam."

Adam blinked. He was still paused just above Kris's face. He didn't care. He didn't care if Kris turned into a fucking octopus, he was kissing him again.

Kris arched under Adam's touch, a low moan practically tearing out of him. Adam buried his head into Kris's neck.

"This is so not fair," he murmured.

"Adam," this time a whisper.

It dawned on him then, Kris was saying his name. Kris was talking. Adam looked at his watch. 12:01.

"Kris—"

"Please. Let me talk. I haven't gotten to talk in three years, okay?"

Adam nodded.

"I wasn't really asleep. Just so you know. And you aren't a moron, well maybe a little, but maybe I should have pushed harder, because I have a horrible tendency of not going for what I want, so let's give the blame to the both of us. And just for the record I think you are funny and talented and beautiful and I'm terribly in love with you despite your penchant for terrible movies and inexplicable love of glitter."

Adam grinned. "You could talk forever you know."

Kris shook his head, his hand reaching for Adam.

"Talk is overrated. I think you were kissing me."

"I was doing a whole lot more, actually."

"Okay."

Adam leaned down again, and the kiss was anything but a fairy tale. Except that it was.  



End file.
